Add Insult To Injury
by E4t-The-Rud3
Summary: When the shield came barreling down towards him with an almighty swing, Tony had really thought that this was the last nail in the coffin. His quick reflexes had managed to save him from an instant death sentence, but when the fight was over, little did he realise that he was nursing more than just a headache. The real fight was just beginning.
1. Chapter 1

It had started with a headache.

After trying to pick a fight with Captain America and The Winter Soldier, Tony was hardly surprised that his head was hurting. In fact a sore head was the least of his problems.

Sprawled awkwardly against the hard concrete in the confines of the Iron Man suit, he was too exhausted to do anything but just sit there and watch as the snow cascaded outside. The wind was starting to intensify, with visibility becoming poorer by the minute.

Stark was no amateur when it came to aviation.  
Like so many skills which he'd acquired during his life so far, he'd dabbled briefly in aeronautics somewhere along the way.

According to the media, his colleagues, foes and friends, Tony Stark was many things.  
They called him an eccentric genius, a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, an inventor, narcissistic, and his least favourite title of them all, the merchant of death.

But before all these things he was just a mechanic.  
It was in his nature and in his blood. It wasn't just enough to accept that things just worked- he had to know _why_ and more importantly, _how_? The truth was there was nothing he liked more than to pull things apart and put them back together again, but it wasn't enough to just to reassemble the puzzle pieces.

It was the permanent itch that he could never seem to scratch.

There was always room for improvement, and that's what he did, improve.

That was the new vision for Stark Industries, to make something better to try and revolutionise the world. There were too many companies trying to replicate and recycle the same old ideas, making their fortunes off of things that were heading towards the same dead end to nowhere.

Tony saw nothing _but_ white, the horizon quickly disappearing behind the heavy snowfall.

He didn't want to stay there, but he had little choice.

No one in their right mind would attempt to fly in these conditions. Not even the best pilot in the world with decades of experience would attempt such a feat.

There was nothing he could do but wait for the worst to pass.

It just wasn't worth it.

It was undeniably true that he was infamous for making rash decisions. In other circumstances perhaps he still would have attempted the flight, but not today. He hadn't made it through one of the worst days of his life just to die in a helicopter crash, especially when he hadn't told anybody where he was going.

The great Tony Stark, lost to the ocean forever.

It was said that with age came responsibility.

Tony could feel that he was at a turning point in his life. He wasn't young and invincible anymore- he'd learned that lesson the hard way. He had scars to remind him of that.

Beneath the confines of the Iron Man suit the brunette could feel his bones aching and not just from the cold either. Under the battered chest plate he was convinced that he'd fractured something. Each new breath bought a fresh wave of pain as his lungs jostled his injured ribs.

Wriggling his fingertips, Stark grit his teeth as his arm protested fiercely.

It was looking like he'd be back in the sling for a while.

Fortunately for him the adrenaline was masking the full extent of the pain, and combined with the bitter cold it was the best he could have hoped for without any pain relief.

The Vibranium shield lay beside him, its presence an ominous weight at his side. It was face up on the ground, its patriotic paint job _mocking_ him.

Each time he glanced at it all he could see was Steve baring over him, shield raised high above his head and pure fury in his baby blue eyes. When the shield had come down on him with a powerful swing, Tony had honestly thought for a second that the star spangled man was going to murder him.

There were numerous times in his life when Stark had experienced a brush with death. People always wanted to know what it was like to cling to the very edge of existence, reaching the end of a dead end road with seemingly no way back.

It wasn't anything like the movies.

Afghanistan, the Malibu Mansion attack, Ultron- so many times he could have died, yet when he'd been tangled in the heat of the moment, the billionaire hadn't even given potential death a second thought.

Getting a chest full of shrapnel had been the worst for sure so far, although launching a nuke into space hadn't exactly been a walk in the park either. Taking a one way ticket through the worm hole Tony had been so focused on getting rid of the nuke that he'd had little time to contemplate being permanently erased from existence.

He still remembered falling through the air as the suit went offline, realising finally that he was utterly alone. Plummeting through the depths of space Iron Man had little choice but to accept his fate, closing his eyes and waiting for death- but a blessing or a curse, it had never arrived.

He'd relived that moment in his dreams for what had seemed like a hundred times, slipping through the infinite atmosphere again and again, only this time slower. Every second felt like an hour, watching the explosion unfold in slow motion as he slipped further and further away- only in the dreams, he never managed to escape.

It was strange.

He'd survived so much worse yet when the shield had swung down towards him, Tony had really thought that this was the last nail in the coffin.

It was often speculated that in a person's last moments they clung to the thought of several things, fragments of their life flashing before their very eyes. Places, faces, sights and sounds….

There was little time for reminiscing when the avenger thought he was going to be snuffed out like a birthday candle. For Tony, there had only been one thing on his mind.

Betrayal.

Then suddenly he was back in a sweltering cave in Afghanistan, crouching beside a dying man.

It was Yinsen laying on the ground, bloodied, defeated and waiting for the end. He was waiting for the reaper to take him, to be reunited with his family again.

' _Don't waste it… don't waste your life.'_

Just when he thought he'd had nothing left to give, Tony managed to summon the remaining strength he didn't realise he'd had.

While Steve had still managed to nail him hard in the head, the philanthropist's quick reflexes had managed to save him from an instant death sentence.

With his good hand he reached out to the offending object and turned it over, where it remained face down in the snow. In the end it seemed that Iron Man would live to fight another day- or at least he would if he didn't perish from exposure.

He hoped that the world wasn't in immediate danger any time soon, because if it was, it would have to wait until he'd finished nursing this killer headache. Then there was the fractured wrist, questionable damage to his ribs, and the gash on his temple that was going to need stitches.

"Friday, how much power are we on?"

" _Seven per cent Boss_ ," the AI replied, usual chirpy Irish accent distorted with the draining power supply.

"Have we got enough for some heat?" the billionaire replied, aware that his teeth were starting to chatter. Even in the suit Tony wasn't immune to frost bite. The last thing he wanted was to lose a couple of digits, and with the tingling in his fingertips he couldn't decide if it was the break in his arm that was responsible or his skin starting to freeze.

" _The suit has been severely compromised-"_

"Really? I had no idea."

Barnes had all but destroyed the arc reactor but there was still life in the old dog yet. Friday was right, the suit was badly compromised, but there was still a small spark of life. It was just a spark, but it was enough to keep the AI online.

"You know every time you speak, it drains the battery, so do me a favour Friday and please just answer the question."

" _Just enough to take the edge off._ "

"I don't remember programming you to be so stingy," he complained.

" _I'll pretend I didn't hear that Boss._ "

There was a welcome surge of warmth that began to pulse through the Iron Man suit and although it was weak, it was enough to return the sensation to Starks frozen extremities. His comfort was soon short lived when his icy fingers started to sting. Without a second thought he tried to wriggle the burning digits- on the wrong hand.

"Son of a-"

Suddenly the ache in his head returned with vengeance and Stark could only wince as his head began to pound. A wave of nausea swept over him as his stomach clenched. For a moment he really thought he was going to hurl right over Caps- no, _Howards_ shield.

He hoped that the summersaults his stomach was doing were just a passing faze. The last thing he wanted to do was open his visor to be sick and let out all of the heat.

" _Boss?_ "

He couldn't feel the cold anymore. There was only the sudden agony in his head, unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.

He tried to breathe in a haze of panic but his protesting ribs wouldn't allow it.

Tony had sustained enough concussions in his life to know that something was seriously wrong. He could feel his heavy eyes betraying him as he sunk deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

He tried to cling to Friday's voice as the AI began to panic, but he wasn't strong enough to fight it.

Or maybe he just didn't have any fight left in him anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Peppers cell phone was buzzing with activity at every hour of the day. It was her constant lifeline to Stark Industries. From here in this quiet hospital room she could run the entire company from that single handheld device.

For the past twenty minutes the blonde had been ploughing her way through a large backlog of emails. The words danced before her blue eyes, blurring and incoherent on the illuminated screen. She was trying to read but no matter how hard she tried she was just unable to concentrate.

Occasionally she paused her skim reading and glanced at Tony, who had barely moved during the past three hours she'd been sat there in the hard plastic chair.

Pepper had learned that people don't just wake up from comas like they do in the movies. Instead they go through a process called post-traumatic amnesia, when a person in a coma gradually starts to regain consciousness.

As his brain continued to heal the doctors assured her that slowly but surely he was finally slipping free from the clutches of PTA. Apparently it was a common symptom experienced by most patients who had sustained a significant brain injury.

She's witnessed it first hand for the past few weeks as she watched Tony lay in his hospital bed, technically conscious but not really awake.

The first time she saw him open his brown eyes she'd thought that he was really awake. She still remembers the excitement in her voice as she'd yelled for the nurse, pressing the call button frantically. Of course when the nurses had come rushing in he'd already closed them again. They'd looked at her sympathetically as she tried to insist that he had opened his eyes.

"I'm not crazy," she'd told them, "I saw it with my open eyes. He was looking right at me!"

She'd taken hold of his hand desperately and asked him to open his eyes again, to make a sound- to do something, _anything_.

Nothing.

Not long after that, the neurologist had arrived and began to explain the philanthropist's current diagnosis.

He said that Tony was starting to show signs of slipping free from the clutches of PTA and that eventually he would start to become more responsive to the world around him. In the early stages of recovery his brain would be unable to form short term memories. Most of his hospital stay would remain forgotten and he was unlikely to remember anything.

For a moment, she really had thought that suddenly everything was going to be alright.

The brutal reality was starting to sink in and the CEO suddenly felt deflated. The hope she had felt previously had suddenly disappeared, like taking a pin to a balloon.

Most of his days were spent sleeping and it seemed that there was nothing that could wake him.

The hospital staff came and went throughout the day fulfilling their daily duties and he slumbered through it all. On the rare occasion when he wasn't sleeping he would lay there with his eyes wide open, gazing aimlessly and seemingly not really looking at anything.

Sometimes when the nurses came he would become agitated, trying to defend himself from their touches by trying to batt their hands away weakly.

Bad behaviour wasn't common for Tony. Most of the time he would let them do as they needed, letting them manoeuvre and handle him without fuss, half asleep and not conscious enough to care.

They always talked to him, even though he never really responded. The staff always encouraged his visitors to talk, insisting that in his own way, Tony was listening.

Rhodes was the best at this kind of thing. He would talk to his best friend as if nothing were amiss, telling him about his day and what was going on in the world. Pepper tried her best, but it just felt forced and awkward. Tony was always the centre of conversation wherever he went. It was unusual for him to be quiet, even the direst of circumstances. To sit there and ramble while he lay there silently…. It felt wrong.

Sometimes he would make noises as if he were trying to speak, humming and muttering inaudibly. Pepper had tried to decipher his ramblings but eventually concluded that they really were just incoherent sounds.

On one occasion he had tried to free himself from the tangle to wires and tubes surrounding his bedside. After dislodging the IV in the back of his good hand and trying to tug the naso-gastric tube from his nostrils, Tony's quest for freedom had been short lived as soon as he removed the pulse oximeter from his finger.

The staff had come rushing in almost immediately, running through the doors expecting to find a patient in cardiac arrest. Instead they saw a frustrated Tony Stark, disconnecting himself from various drips and machinery and muttering incoherently to himself.

Apart from that singular occurrence the philanthropist had made it through most of his hospital stay without any major incident. After all, there was really nothing he could do in his current state.

Pepper eventually decided she'd had enough of work for one day. Taking one final glance at the cell phone in her hand, she placed it face down in her lap and took Tony's hand in her own, squeezing it reassuringly.

She glanced at him just like she had done many times before, noticing the small changes to his healing body. The nasty black eye he'd been sporting had faded to a light bruise and the wound on his head and its ugly stitches still remained concealed by sterile dressings.

On a liquid diet provided by the tube running through his oesophagus and directly into his stomach, it wasn't surprising that he had lost a significant amount of weight. The combination of trauma and weight loss had seemingly aged Tony overnight.

It was hard to believe that the man laying in that bed was the infamous Iron Man.

He looked older than his forty six years and closer to fifty, like a frail old man.

Suddenly, she averted her gaze from the steady pulse of the monitor and peered back at him, almost jumping with surprise. Just seconds ago he had seemingly been fast asleep and now his eyes were wide open.

The blonde released his hand and pulled up her chair, inching closer to the hospital bed.

When she moved, his gaze followed.

He was watching her.

Pepper froze, gazing into those familiar brown eyes and seeing something that made her heart sing.

Recognition.

"Tony?"

For a moment he didn't speak but instead furrowed his brow, seemingly befuddled by something. She took his hand again in hers again and spoke to him softly, suddenly feeling anxious.

"Tony, can you hear me?"

He tried to speak, but all he managed was noise, the words struggling to pass his lips. He tried again, this time more slowly.

"Pepper….."

Pepper couldn't supress the tears that sprung from her eyes.

She began to sob.

* * *

 _Tumbling through the air at lethal speed, the fall seemed to last forever as he plummeted to his doom, powerless to do anything but watch as the grassy field inched closer and closer._

 _Rhodey knew that this was the end._

 _He always knew that this job would be the death of him, but it was never meant to end like this. He was going to die, and for what? Because Rogers and his friends refused to sign the stupid accords._

 _The suit was dead._

 _He was too._

 _The com was the only thing still working and he could hear Tony calling after him desperately. He could hear Iron Mans thruster's right behind him, but he was just too far away._

 _The ground was close now, so he closed his eyes, waiting for the final curtain call._

" _RHODEY!"_

Late night phone calls were never a good thing.

Jolting from sleep in the early hours of the morning Colonel Rhodes awoke to find his cell phone ringing at his bedside table. He lay there for a moment, heart pounding in his chest as he tried to breathe.

 _Relax._

 _Just another nightmare._

Before he even had a chance to check the caller ID he couldn't supress the imminent dread lurking in the pit of his stomach.

It was Pepper.

It was 3:23am, and people didn't tend to call at this sort of hour for just a chat. Reaching for his cell, Rhodes barely managed to bring himself to answer. After accepting the call he held the phone to his ear and after a short silence he finally said, "Pepper?"

" _Rhodey, I'm sorry to wake you-"_

"Is everything alright?"

Of course Pepper knew what he was really asking. The real question remained unspoken between them.

' _Is Tony alright?'_

There was a pause, and for a short while Rhodey felt like the silence dragged on for a small eternity. It was unnervingly quiet. For a moment he wondered if she was really still there until suddenly, on the other end of the receiver Pepper began to sob.

Instantly he feared the worst.

"Is… is he…?"

" _He's awake,"_ she said finally. There was another audible sob- a cry of relief, and Rhodes released a breath he hadn't realised that he was holding.

For the first time since the accident it felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

" _Now that he's conscious they're doing a neurological exam and another MRI to see the extent of the…"_ She faltered for a second before uttering the final dreaded word, " _damage_."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he promised.

" _It will be hours before we hear anything,"_ Pepper said. _"It can wait until morning Rhodey."_

"Come on Potts, you know me better than that," he said. After all there was no chance that he was ever getting back to sleep tonight.

"After everything that happened at the airport, Tony had a million and one things on his mind. He had Ross on his ass and a bunch of superhero vigilantes to catch, but he was still there for me when I needed him."

" _It sounds like nothing I say will convince you to change your mind_ ," she replied. _"At least let me send someone to pick you up."_

"Alright, if you insist."

* * *

It was still dark outside when Rhodes arrived a few hours after Peppers initial phone call. He'd come as quickly as he could, although lately he had to admit that being quick really wasn't in his repertoire anymore.

Every day his injury brought challenges. Now simple tasks took a lot longer than he liked to admit. It wasn't just the ability to walk that he'd lost that day. The greatest loss of all was his independence.

Still it didn't matter if it took him all day to get there; he was determined to be there for his best friend. Although it pained him to admit it a small part of him deep down was grateful for the distraction.

Now he sat in the private waiting room, tapping the arm of his wheelchair.

Pepper was perched on the edge of her chair with a distant look on her face, clutching her cappuccino as if it were a lifeline. It had been a long time since James had seen her like this, unaccompanied by her CEO persona. Without the suit and professional make-up, it was almost like sitting next to a different person.

Vision was standing by the window, gazing out at the city with a troubled expression on his face. His distress only seemed to amplify after the Colonel had arrived. Since the accident the sapient android had become distant. Although James perhaps didn't know Vision as well as the others, he could still detect a change in him. Beneath his composed exterior, he wondered what was really going on in that synthetic head of his.

Vision was indeed fond of Stark in his own unique sort of way. He'd been living among mankind for some time now, yet he felt that he would never truly understand sentiment. As a non-human lifeform he would never be capable of comprehending the never ending mystery that was the human condition.

Although Tony was one of his co-creators, his fondness of the genius was not entirely influenced by the role in his creation. He could sense that Mr Stark was a good person who only wished to protect the people, realising that he had more to offer the world than chaos and destruction. For a person often accused of being self-obsessed, he cared a great deal for his friends and team mates, even when some had decided to take a darker path and become fugitives.

Vision wondered how much of the man's ambition to protect the world was motivated by guilt, guilt from the many lives that had been taken by the very weapons he had assisted in creating.

Living in a world trapped in a seemingly never ending cycle of conflict, Vision wondered if he was privileged or deprived to lack full understanding of human behaviour. His intellect was superior, yet humans were a mystery he would never be able to fully comprehend.

"Any word on Rogers?" James asked. The question seemed to catch the androids attention. Vision retreated from the window and approached him with a serious expression on his face.

"There was an incident yesterday on the raft."

"I don't like where this is going," the Colonel replied. "What kind of incident?"

"They escaped."

"They what?!"

"Captain Rogers infiltrated the base, assisted by James Barnes."

When Pepper remained suspiciously quiet James confronted her suspiciously. "Did you know about this?"

The blonde averted her gaze guiltily to the crumpled polystyrene cup in her hands.

"Yes," she confessed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just-"

"Didn't want to worry me," James retorted heatedly. "I appreciate the thought, but it's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"The trail had gone cold long before anyone realised something was amiss. I'm afraid there is little we can do but wait for the Captain to resurface again," Vision said.

Rhodes sighed, sinking lower in his chair. "I didn't mean to get mad at you Pepper," he said, resting his hands in his lap, warm palms face down on his thighs.

There was no feeling.

"I'm sorry too," she said. "I didn't mean to make you feel…."

"Useless," he finished bluntly. "It's ok. You can say it."

"Rhodey, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," he said. "It's just… I've had it with people tip toeing around me. Everyone's scared to talk about it. They don't think that I notice the way they look at me, and they don't talk about it because they think I can't handle it."

"I can't imagine what you must be going through right now," Pepper said, her gaze lingering on the wheelchair. It was standard hospital issued, and she couldn't help but think if Tony saw it, he would do something stupid like put a flame thrower on the back.

"Tony is the only one that wasn't afraid to be straight with me," Rhodes divulged. "I remember when I woke up and saw him sitting there, with his arm in a sling and the meanest looking black eye. He had this serious look on his face, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and for a minute I thought he was going to cry."

"That sounds just like him," Pepper smiled sadly, "worried about everyone but himself."

The Colonel nodded in agreement.

"Then as soon as he sees me watching him, the look just disappears from his face and he says-"

* * *

" _It's about time you woke up. Do you know how bored I've been just sitting here?"_

" _Tony? What… What are you still doing here?"_

 _The billionaire scoffed, concealing a wince of pain as he jostled his throbbing arm. "Are you seriously asking me that question? Maybe your concussion is worse than we thought."_

" _I thought you'd be out looking for the fugitives, that's all."_

" _Yeah, well, something more important came up," the brunette replied, averting his gaze from Rhodes and towards the door where he could see the silhouette of Vision through the window._

 _The android was lingering in the hallway, where he had remained for several hours, convinced that his presence would be most unwelcome. Tony knew that technically Vision wasn't capable of experiencing human emotion, yet there he was standing in that hallway, wallowing in what seemed to be guilt._

" _It's not his fault Tony. It was an accident."_

 _The billionaire looked away quickly when he was caught staring, choosing instead to admire the cheap water pitcher on the Colonels bedside table._

" _I know," Tony sighed, leaning back in the hard visitors chair looking both defeated and exhausted. There was no use keeping up his cheery charade because James could always see right through it._

" _You should go home and get some rest," James said, "Those hospital chairs aren't made for sleeping in. I know that from experience."_

 _"And wait for Widow to stab me in the back in my sleep? I'll pass thanks."_

" _Any word from Ross?"_

 _Tony's sudden silence spoke volumes to Rhodes._

 _After failing to apprehend Rogers and his followers, James wasn't surprised that the General hadn't reacted well. In fact he was surprised that the man himself wasn't here in person, scolding them both for their failures._

" _I think we're struck off his Christmas card list."_

" _Like that huh?"_

" _As much as it pains me to admit it, I can't blame him for being pissed," the philanthropist said as he proceeded to count the missions failures on his un-injured hand. "Let's see. First of all I recruited the spider kid, who hasn't even signed the accords. Then we tried and failed to apprehend Rogers. Widow turned traitor, we all made a total mess of a nice airport, and then-"_

 _Tony couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence._

 _He was still shaken from the incident._

 _It wasn't every day that you got to witness your best friend falling from the sky in a dead weight suit, plummeting through the air and towards the ground at fatal speed._

 _He remembers flying just behind War Machine, so close yet so far. He knew that he wasn't going to make it in time, but still he tried with everything that he had, putting every ounce of power into the thrusters._

 _As usual it seemed that his best hadn't been enough._

 _Then there was the sound that the suit made when it hit the ground a sickening smack, followed by a gut wrenching silence._

" _You ok?" James asked. He couldn't help but feel concerned. It wasn't every day that Tony Stark was lost for words._

" _I think you're on the wrong end of that question pal."_

" _It's not all bad news Tony," James said. "They got the others. Rogers won't have that on his conscience. He'll try and break them out eventually, and then we- you can catch him in the act."_

" _Don't talk like that."_

 _"Like what?"_

" _Like you're just going to give up."_

" _I'm not giving up Tony," Rhodes said, "I'm just being realistic."_

 _The room grew silent, the air between them thick with tension._

 _Tony wished he knew what to say. For a man who was infamous for never shutting up, he seemed to be lost for words lately. What do you say to your best friend, who is now facing the possibility of being permanently paralysed?_

" _Tony," James said, adopting a serious tone, "I want you to know something-"_

" _Come on Rhodey," Tony said, feeling overwhelmed by the well of emotion that seemed to smother him, "don't talk like that-"_

" _Please Tony, I need you to hear this."_

 _The mechanic nodded reluctantly, and the Colonel continued._

" _I don't regret signing the accords," he said firmly. "I believe it was the right thing to do. Even after all of this… which sucks, it really sucks, I still wouldn't change anything. In the beginning, when you shut down the company's weapons manufacturing-"_

" _Come on Rhodey," Tony said, "that was a long time ago-"_

" _I know, but I need to say it," James insisted. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I want you to know that even if I don't understand what's going on in that head of yours, I will always have your back. I might never get back in the suit again, but I'll help you in whatever way I can."_

 _Tony was caught off guard by James heart to heart. There was a look on his face that the Colonel had only seen a few times before. He wondered if those were unshed tears he could see in those brown eyes._

" _That's enough of that kind of talk," Tony replied, "I swear if you carry on I'm going to break out in hives."_

" _Rogers has made a big mistake. Maybe he doesn't realise it yet, but he will."_

 _When Stark sat forward in his chair, something suddenly caught James eye. Something concealed behind Tony's back tumbled off of the chair and onto the polished hospital floor._

" _What is that?"_

" _Got you a little something," Stark said, "I thought it was better than flowers. They just die anyway right? As for a card, you've seen my handwriting….."_

 _He retrieved his fallen comrade and offered it to his friend with a look of complete seriousness in his eyes._

 _It was a platypus toy, the dorkiest thing James had ever seen._

 _Rhodes had earned himself many nicknames throughout his life, but for some reason Tony had always gravitated towards the weird ones. Ever since college he'd called him platypus, for reasons he still didn't really understand._

" _Thank you Tony," he said, unable to contain the smirk of amusement on his face. "It's what I've always wanted."_

" _Your welcome, Platypus."_

* * *

"Mr Stark?"

Tony distantly registered a stranger's voice in his ear.

"Mr Stark?"

He realised distantly that the voice was talking to _him_.

"Mr Stark, can you hear me?"

He lay there for a short while listening to the repetitive sound of machinery beeping and hissing around his bedside. He tried to speak but his mouth was drier than the Afghan desert. The words were like glass in his throat. The sound that emerged from his lips wasn't even remotely close to a coherent word. It sounded like something being broken in the depths of his workshop.

The stranger didn't seem to mind much at all. In fact, they seemed pleased by his incoherent rambling.

He could feel the soft pillows beneath his head and his sore body lying under warm sheets. There were bandages itching against his skin and something uncomfortable clamped onto the end of his finger.

It was a pulse oximeter.

There was also a cannula in his nostrils delivering a steady flow of oxygen, the tubing rubbing behind the back of his ears. In an irritable haze he tried to tug it away, but with lack of coordination, he didn't get very far.

While he managed to pry his left arm a few inches from the mattress, it was in a thick plaster cast. It may as well have been made from concrete because in his pitiful state, he just couldn't seem to do anything with it. It dropped back down onto the mattress weakly.

Fortunately for Tony he'd conveniently woken not long after the nurse had dosed him with another shot of morphine, which seemed to be doing its job.

He wriggled his fingers slowly, distantly registering a pained throb emitting from the injured limb.

It ached, but it didn't _hurt_.

His right arm didn't seem to cooperate at all, just remaining by his side as if it weren't even attached to his body. The doctor must have noticed something because he took the hand in his own and said, "Mr Stark, can you squeeze my hand for me?"

Peering down at the limb, Tony tried to squeeze the strangers hand….

Nothing happened.

He tried again, this time glaring in frustration at the useless appendage. He willed it to move inside his head, watching and waiting….

But still there was nothing, and Tony started to panic.

"Move…." He commanded, quickening heart beat thundering in his ears and shrieking on the monitor at his bedside.

" _Move!_ " He repeated heatedly, as if somehow this new verbal approach would make any difference.

Unsurprisingly, still there was no movement.

He didn't understand.

Why wouldn't it move?

He still had sensation. He could feel the itchy hospital sheets beneath his fingers.

"Mr Stark, I need you to calm down-"

"Why… why won't it move!"

"Mr Stark-"

The doctor reached out and settled his hand on the billionaire's shoulder in an attempt to calm his skyrocketing heart rate and offer some kind of comfort. Unfortunately his good intentions backfired when the agitated man backhanded him across the face with a heavy casted hand.

When the monitor began to sound noisily it only seemed to aggravate him.

Tony didn't hear the team of nurse's hurry through the door. He only seemed to register their presence when they suddenly appeared at his bedside, trying to wrestle him into submission in an attempt to prevent him from aggravating his injuries.

He didn't even feel the prick as a needle sank into his skin, administering a dose strong enough to help him into a drug induced sleep.

Eventually the thrashing began to subside and Tony surrendered to the drug, tired but nevertheless still unnerved by the sudden revelation.

As he lost the battle with consciousness he scrutinised the limb through his half lidded brown eyes and willed it to move one last time.

It remained motionless on the mattress.

Succumbing to the drug, he finally closed his eyes.

* * *

"I know this is probably the last thing on your mind right now, and I feel like a total jackass for bringing it up," Rhodes said, "but have you thought about press?"

The blonde nodded. When her cell phone began to ring she didn't even glance at the caller ID before promptly rejecting the call.

"The hospital signed a non-disclosure agreement," she said.

"What are the consequences of breaching the terms of the contract?" Vision inquired.

"They'll wish they hadn't," Potts replied simply, and James didn't doubt it for a single second.

Stark Industries had some of the best lawyers in the city and in comparison, other firms were just kids playing in the sandbox.

They meant business.

Dealing with an unpredictable billionaire had its challenges, and the firm had bailed Tony out of potential media scandals on numerous occasions over the years. He always took things with a pinch of salt, but Stark Industries didn't mess around. Even the smallest scandals had the potential to bring the company to its knees.

It felt like they'd waited a short eternity for a doctor to appear although in reality, it had probably been closer to a couple of hours at the most.

When Starks MD finally appeared in the doorway Pepper practically sprang from her seat and began to wring her hands together in nervous anticipation.

Rebecca was thirty one years of age with long curly brown hair and emerald green eyes. She'd been acquainted with Tony several times, which was a new personal record for him. It was hardly surprising that he'd been through his fair share of doctors. Due to his eccentric nature and profound stubbornness even a substantial pay check couldn't convince most to become his regular physician.

Rebecca was different from the others- she seemed to have more patience for him.

"How soon can we see him?" Pepper asked.

"Let's go somewhere more comfortable," the doctor insisted with a forced smile.

Vision held the door for the ladies and James, and they were led through a quiet hallway towards the privacy of her office.

The Colonel couldn't help but notice that Tony seemed to be the only patient in the entire ward. The rest of the rooms appeared to hold nothing but empty beds. He wondered if it had anything to do with the security he'd passed on his way in.

"Please, take a seat."

It was a simple office but more tolerable than the bland white washed waiting room they'd had to endure. There was a large oak desk with some family photographs and a wilted looking plant that looked close to death.

"As you are already aware Mr Stark suffered a traumatic brain injury, sustained by a blow to the head. The force of the impact caused the brain to move inside the skull, causing what we call localised damage. It means that most of the injury is confined to a particular area."

The doctor plucked an MRI scan from the folder in her hand and gestured to an area of the image with the tip of her pen.

"If you look at this area here you can see that most of the trauma was to the frontal lobe, which is responsible for behavioural and emotional control, and personality."

"Tony is responding well to verbal and physical stimuli but he's still very disoriented. Now that he's starting to pull through the PTA, we can give you a more accurate long term prognosis."

"How long will he be in the hospital?" Pepper asked.

"Right now, I really couldn't say-"

"He's awake. That's good, right?"

"Miss Potts, it's important for you to understand that Mr Stark has sustained moderate brain damage. Every case is different. Some patients after rehabilitation go on to make almost a full recovery, while others are left with life changing physical or mental disabilities. When the neurologist assessed him this morning, Tony was showing weakness on the right side of his body, which is what we call hemiparesis."

Peppers face fell instantly.

She didn't want Rebecca to continue; fearful of what she might say, but it was something that she needed to hear. She looked her in the eyes desperately, waiting for her to give them something, anything that could give them hope.

"Is he going to be ok?" James asked reluctantly.

"I think that with rehabilitation and the right care, Mr Stark is likely to make a good recovery, but it really is too early to say. There is a possibility that he could be left with permanent difficulties as a result of his injury."

The room fell quiet, and it was at that single moment in the doctor's office that Pepper began to crumble. The blonde started to cry, tears quickly cascading down her cheeks and shoulders trembling with each sob.

James reached out and took her hand, trying to stay strong, although all he really wanted to do was cry alongside her.

"Tony's strong," James insisted, "he's a fighter. He'll make it through this. It'll take time, but I know he can do it. He's stubborn like that."

Vision watched the scene unfold uncomfortably, unsure what the appropriate course of action was in this situation. He looked to the Colonel for some sort of direction, who seemed to sense his unease.

"Vision, could you grab us some coffee please? I have a feeling that we are going to need it."

The android nodded. He didn't leave the office immediately, choosing instead to linger for a moment, wondering if this was one of those moments when it would be inappropriate to phase through the walls instead of using the doorway.

"How did this happen?" Pepper cried dejectedly, trying and failing to wipe away her tears.

"It's just as I said," Vision reiterated, "Conflict breeds catastrophe."


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note** : Sorry its short! A few people asked me if I had abandoned this fic, so I figured it was time for an update. Hopefully the next installment will be by the end of the week : )

* * *

Scott Lang was slumped on his stool at the breakfast bar, head in his hands as he silently watched the ants crawl across the smooth marble.

Wakandan ants were like nothing he had ever seen before. In comparison Bullet ants were like harmless puppy dogs.

Whatever this species was called, they were the creepiest things he'd ever seen.

Almost twice the size of a Crazy ant, they had large ominous eyes like a hornet and menacing mandibles that were perfectly designed for inflicting bites. Unfortunately for Lang he'd figured this out the painful way. Three days later and the bites were still itching like hell.

Frightening appearance aside, the ants had eventually begun to respond to Scott's commands although it had taken a few days of trial and error. At first he had assumed that he was just out of practice.

Minutes had turned to hours and he had started to wonder if Pyms tech was even working.

In the end it turned out that the solution was simple.

The Colony began to respond to his commands after receiving a humble offering of honey in the cap of a soda bottle.

Apparently, these guys didn't work for free.

Smart.

Scott sat back and admired his masterpiece, watching the ants manoeuvre the final piece in place.

"Hey," he said to a rogue ant, who stared back at him with piercing black eyes, antenna twitching impatiently. "No eating the art work."

"That is disgusting," Wanda said as she stopped to peer over his shoulder.

"Thank you," he replied, enjoying her disgust with immense satisfaction. Across the marble amidst the scattered ants the word 'bored' had been spelt using sugar cubes.

"Great work guys," he praised. "It's a little lopsided but overall, I'm impressed."

Lang left the table and headed over to the enormous refrigerator, leaving the ants to entertain themselves for a short while. Much to his amusement he couldn't help but notice the amount of distance Wanda put between herself and the countertop.

"They're not flesh eating you know," he said, grabbing the handle and prying the door open.

"Did you have to bring them inside?" she scolded. "This is a kitchen, we eat food in here!"

Examining the contents of the fridge Scott decided that none of it would probably be of any interest to the ants, unless they were on Steve's high protein super soldier diet. He closed the door and headed back to the counter, plucking a tangerine from the bowl as he went.

Wanda's glare was relentless- Scott swore he could feel her gaze smouldering him from across the room, even with his back turned.

Barton seemed to have a habit of appearing out of nowhere.

One moment Lang was peeling the fruit and minding his own business, the next he almost dropped it in surprise when he casually peered over his shoulder to find the archer standing there.

"Are those _ants_?"

"Obviously" Lang replied, dropping the first juicy tangerine slice onto the countertop. The ants approached instantly, scrambling over the flesh of the fruit and twitching excitedly.

"And you're feeding them," Hawkeye said, watching the scene unfold with a look of repulsion on his face.

"Rewarding them."

"Don't you think you're too old to be playing with bugs?"

"I'm not playing with them man! This is…. training."

"Training," Clint repeated, looking at Scott like he had clearly lost his mind.

Wanda wasn't squeamish with bugs but she couldn't bare to stand in that kitchen any longer. When she watched the ants moving across the countertop it felt like they were crawling across her skin.

Taking her glass with her she headed for the doorway, deliberately walking the furthest route to avoid the counter. She didn't spare the new residents a second glance, that was until Scott called out to her urgently.

"Wanda, wait!"

She halted instantly, but before she could utter a single word Scott hurried over and knelt on the hard floor by her feet.

"Watch where you're walking, you almost killed Ant-Marie!"

"Ant-Marie," Clint repeated, in a way that suggested he was questioning Lang's sanity.

"Stop looking at me like that," Scott accused. The ant, seemingly unaware that it had narrowly escaped being crushed by Wanda's boot, wondered off to join the rest of the colony to enjoy the exciting feast.

"Like what? I don't know what you're talking about," the archer denied.

"Like I'm on the bus to crazy town."

"Hey, it's cool. Everyone likes pets," Clint said, "but most people just get a dog. Are you allergic or something?"

"Haha," Lang said, offering the last tangerine slice to the ants. "Was the real reason you quit retirement to become a comedian?"

"Unbelievable," Wanda replied, shaking her head as she left the room.

Scott left soon after, his companions following behind him.

"You not going to introduce me to the rest of your friends?"

"Screw you man," Lang replied, with no real venom in his voice.

* * *

After spending his first brief spell of consciousness being assessed by the neuro-specialists, Tony slept through the remainder of the day in his warm hospital bed.

All the mental stimulation had wrung his healing brain out like a wet dish rag, and for the next week he did little but sleep. His friends couldn't help but worry that he was back tracking on his newly made progress. It felt like they were losing him to the coma all over again, although the doctors insisted that it was nothing to be concerned about.

After a long heated and emotional discussion, they'd eventually agreed to take turns taking vigil at his bedside.

After everything that had happened it didn't feel right to leave Tony alone, not even in one of the city's most elite private hospitals.

James had volunteered for the night watch.

He didn't mind since he wasn't sleeping much anyway, plagued by too many nightmares.

It was a late Thursday night and the Colonel sat in his newly acquired wheelchair, a book recommended by his physiotherapist perched in his lap, although he wasn't really reading it.

He was still trying to get over the excessive security he'd encountered at the entrance to the ward.

He had argued that for Tony's safety it was best if he always had company, but Hogan's elite guards on the door wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.

Rhodes understood to a certain extent why an injured Iron Man would need a little security. This wasn't a story that any of them wanted to see plastered over the latest tabloids.

His friend had acquired many enemies in his life. There were business rivals, bitter journalists, irrational villains, and jilted one-night stands. There were people out there who would enjoy kicking Tony while he was still down. Some of them might even by crazed enough to try and finish the job.

He'd been on enough missions to know that the bulky black suits they were wearing only had one purpose- to disguise their bulletproof vests and concealed firearms.

Talk about keeping a low profile.

The extra security did little to soothe his apprehension.

After everything that happened, he trusted no one.

James knew that in reality there was little he could do if anyone came through that door. Without the suit and the use of his legs he felt like less of a Lieutenant and more like a liability.

Since the accident Rhodes was always armed, but nobody needed to know about that. He was starting to wonder if it was for his own comfort or for the protection of those around him.

For the first time in weeks he could see the man he remembered starting to come back to them. The violet bruising around his eye was starting to fade. Against the pallor of his skin it looked worse than it actually was.

According to the doctor the fracture in his arm was healing nicely and the same could be said for his ribs. In just a few more days he may not even need the cannula anymore.

Iron Mans condition was currently on a need to know basis. There had been little discussion about how to handle the press, although Rhodey had his suspicions. Just like Tony's open heart surgery, this too was probably destined to get swept under the carpet.

James didn't know much about Peppers plans, but he knew that she was already in the process of concocting an elaborate cover story with help from the experts at Stark Industries.

"Peppers mad at me," he told his friend. "We had a…. disagreement. It was nasty Tony. I'm glad you weren't there to hear it."

 _They were arguing in the deserted hallway, trying but failing to keep their raised voices down for the sake of the patient on the other side of the wall._

 _The truth was that at this point, not even an earthquake would wake Tony. Through a combination of powerful drugs and exhaustion, he was only going to wake when he was ready. Extreme fatigue was apparently normal for most head trauma patients._

" _Pepper, I don't want to argue with you-"_

" _Yet here we are," she replied heatedly, arms folded across her chest and a frown etched on her face that was laced with obvious disapproval. "If people know that he's vulnerable, I dread to think what could happen!"_

" _I know that you care about him," James said, "and that you'll do anything to protect him-"_

" _If you understand then why are you fighting me on this Rhodey!"_

" _Because I think you're kidding yourself if you think that this is all going to just blow over!"_

 _James didn't want to fight, but it seemed as if Pepper wasn't going to give him any other choice. He had tried to talk and reason with her, but with emotions running at an all-time high, he had only succeeded in causing an argument._

" _This isn't just another little scandal you can hide with a few white lies-"_

" _I know that!"_

" _It's only a matter of time, people are bound to notice."_

" _He's going to be fine," she insisted, unwilling to think about the alternative._

" _But what if he's not?"_

 _James didn't know if she was in denial or if it was simply her way of coping, but even after the talk in the doctor's office, Potts had remained stubbornly optimistic._

 _She tried to avoid talking about the worst-case scenarios, even when the doctors were adamant that it was best to be prepared for every outcome that Tony's injury could bring._

" _I know you don't want to talk about it Pepper, but sometimes the truth hurts! You heard what the doctors said. He might not recover from this. He could have a disability for the rest of his life. People are bound to notice!"_

 _For a moment she remained quiet, gazing into his eyes with a coldness that he had never witnessed before._

" _I'm starting to think you don't want him to get better," she said. "I'm sorry about what happened to you Colonel, I really am, but I can't help but think that you want Tony to suffer too."_

Pepper wasn't a bad person, James kept reminding himself that.

Those words had stung a lot, but he couldn't bring himself to hate her. She was overwhelmed by grief, trying to be there for Tony and run the company at the same time.

She didn't mean it, but it still hurt.

James had remained there in the hallway for a short while, still trying to recover from the bad card he'd been dealt.

As he'd sat in his wheelchair tired and defeated, he'd wondered what he had done in his life to deserve this. He thought about Tony too, laying in that hospital bed because one of his friends had put him there- Captain America.

Rhodey didn't know much about science, but it was apparent to him that Erskine's serum wasn't so perfect after all. It had overcome Steve's disabilities and fragile health, but it was unable to fix his unwaveringly persistent personality.

Pepper only had the best intentions in mind.

Even if they were no longer romantically involved with each other she would always care about Stark. Emotionally she couldn't handle the dangers of his job anymore. Every time there was an assemble she wondered how many new bruises he would return with this time- that was if he returned at all.

She insisted that one day it was inevitable that he would come home in a body bag.

Rhodes couldn't help but notice that despite always trying to distance herself from Tony, Pepper always came back.

James closed the book in his lap and placed it face down on the bedside table.

The billionaire continued to doze fitfully in his comfortable cocoon of fresh hospital issued sheets, sleeping undisturbed through the sound of the machines.

* * *

Steve couldn't help but regret arriving in Wakanda the middle of a heat wave, apparently its hottest in over a decade.

After a meagre half hour training session super soldier or not, the blonde decided that he just couldn't stand the heat anymore. Wiping the sweat from his brow he draped the warm cotton towel around his neck, retreating to the solace of the air-conditioned kitchen for a glass of cold water.

On route to the kitchen he passed Scott, who strolled past him looking like the pied piper.

He acknowledged Steve with a simple "Captain," before heading off, followed by a trail of Wakandan ants carrying tangerine slices, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

After breaking his friends out of the raft, Rogers had headed to Wakanda with little to no plan of what to do next.

T'Challa had been a generous host, with only one demand- do not leave the grounds under any circumstances.

The worst part of being a fugitive besides the obvious fact of being hunted, was having to keep a low profile.

There was little they could do but be grateful for his highnesses hospitality.

Barton was perched on the window ledge, gazing through the large pane of glass with a dejected expression on face.

"So," he sighed, "we traded one prison for another."

"Come on Clint, you know it's not like that," Steve replied as he refilled his glass, deciding this time it wasn't worth adding any crushed ice. It had melted too quickly.

"Isn't it? I'm just calling it how I see it."

"Don't mind him," Sam said cheerfully, lingering in the wide doorway, "I think somebody woke up on the wrong side of the nest this morning."

"It's not a prison Clint," Rogers insisted.

"We can't leave," the archer argued.

"The King is giving refuge to the most wanted fugitives in the world right now," the Captain reminded him. "If someone finds us here, things could get ugly. Innocent people could get hurt."

"You're right about laying low for a while," Sam admitted, "it's the right thing to do. We need time to get our heads together and figure out where to go from here. But Cap… you know this isn't just going to blow over. They won't stop looking until they find us."

Steve knew his friend was right.

They couldn't stay in Wakanda forever.

Fugitives or not, the world still needed the 'rogue' Avengers, they just didn't know it yet.

The truth was when he thought about leaving Wakanda behind, he remembered Bucky in the Cryo chamber, defenceless and alone.

How could he just leave him behind?

"You're all in this mess because of me," he said, "and I'll do what I can to make it right. The last thing I want is for you to end up back in jail, because next time…"

"If there is a next time, we sure as hell won't be getting out," Sam said frankly.

The room became quiet.

Hawkeye had a family, a beautiful wife and three children. Steve couldn't imagine how he must be feeling right now. Barton was no criminal and he certainly didn't deserve to be treated like one. He should be back at the farm, being a father to his new-born child.

Rogers didn't know much about Scott Lang, but he knew that he had a daughter, Cassie. He talked about her a lot. It was obvious that he loved her dearly. Things had to be tough on him too.

There was something gnawing away at Steve.

It had been eating at him for weeks.

Falcon was watching him, like he could sense his unease.

Without a word he took a seat on the stool beside him, waiting until he was ready to talk. There was a therapeutic aura about Sam. The blonde felt like he could talk to him about anything without fear of being judged.

"Somethings bothering you Cap," Falcon said, "more than usual."

"When Bucky was arrested, Tony tried to convince me to sign the accords," Steve admitted. "He said that if we signed, it would get Ross off our backs while we worked things out."

Clint visibly stiffened at the mention of Stark, but he remained quiet.

"Smart," Sam said, trying to ignore the look of scepticism on Barton's face.

"I can see what he was thinking. Stark accepted the accords and now has his foot in the door. If he can prove that he can be trusted, maybe eventually he can help make changes. If he'd refused, they would have shut him out and forced him to resign. Then he'd never have a chance to try and make things right."

"You make it sound simple," Steve replied.

"The Accords are many things Cap, but simple isn't one of them."

"I almost signed," Steve confessed. "Then I found out he was holding Wanda at the compound against her will. I was mad. Really, really mad. Now I've realised that she's in the same position all over again, but just in a different country and a different house."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

The blonde remained silent for a moment.

He had been unprepared for this kind of response. He'd expected a nod, or some words of sympathy, but… it may have been just what he needed.

"I know you don't want to leave him Cap," Sam said, "but we can't stay here forever. It's just a matter of time before someone comes looking for us. If they find us here, they find Barnes too."

Steve wasn't under any illusions.

Sam was right.

If Ross and his men stormed the building, Buck didn't stand a chance. In the clutches of Cyro he was as good as helpless.

"Who knows what they would do to him," Sam added.

Steve didn't want to think about it.


End file.
